The Dance
by zsp
Summary: Louisa invites Martin to a dance, and to his surprise he desperately wants to join her. But will circumstances and pride get in the way? Inspired by S1E4 "The Portwenn Effect." In Progress-Reviews welcome!
1. Chapter 1

**_The Dance_**

**Based in large part on Episode 4 of Season/Series 1 "The Portwenn Effect" (including a few lines taken from that episode) **

_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _

_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._

Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Invitation**

"Martin!"

The voice echoed across the waterfront, interrupting the doctor's thoughts.

He looked up towards the harbor.

Ordinarily he would have met a greeting of this kind with a stern scowl and a good deal of muttering about the shouting of his first name in public, but he quickly recognized the owner of the voice as none other than Louisa Glasson.

Martin wasn't exactly sure why, but Louisa was...different.

A generally cheerful, outgoing, strong-willed, fiery-tempered, and above all stunningly beautiful primary school teacher, Louisa Glasson fit the description of everything Martin was not. And yet, not only did he feel strong, almost irrepressible...feelings...for her, but she, unbelievably seemed to bear him some affection as well.

Drawn by her allure, he soon found himself approaching the small crowd gathered on the beach.

"...Two glasses of white wine, a band and all for a tenner."

Martin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Burt, on the warpath again, scraping up every penny he could. Why was he not surprised?

Surely Louisa wouldn't fall for this horrid claptrap.

"Well I'll take two then," Louisa said, handing the rotundous plumber a 20-pound note.

Clearly, Martin had overestimated her.

"I've just been mugged by Bert," she said, a playful look in her eyes.

"I've now got two tickets to the Portwenn Players Dance...an _auspicious occasion_. Do you want one?"

Or perhaps...underestimated.

Immediately Martin shut down. Dancing? Alcohol? People? Louisa? Not exactly an environment he was bound to thrive in. Indeed, with the possible exception of the last item, he rather despised all of these things. Quickly he tried to think of a lame excuse.

"Doctors aren't allowed to attend social events...," he said without conviction. "Besides I _can't_..."

Louisa suddenly saw what this was. Martin was nervous. He thought he'd mess up, do something wrong.

She recalled Mark's interruption of their little get-together at the pub. Though a mild disappointment to her, it certainly hadn't put her off the mysterious, gruff, yet highly-skilled and strangely attractive new GP from London. But to Martin...it must have been devastating. It was strange that a man with such extraordinary abilities and credentials in his profession should be derailed by such a minor snafu in his...er...social...life.

She thought about just leaving him to his pathetic self-pity; after all she wanted _him_ to _want_ to do this.

But somewhere deep inside of her, her feelings for him stirred. She didn't know why, but she desperately wanted to spend some good quality time with this man, as awkward and gruff and closed off as he was.

"That's a load of rubbish Martin, and you know it!"

"I...I really...no..." He put up his hand and shook his head, in a semi-polite attempt at refusal.

Suddenly, his Aunt Joan whirled around, a smile of approval appearing on her face as she quickly took in the scene.

"Have you nabbed my nephew yet?" she said with a wicked grin. Martin's face hardened. How vulgar...and embarrassing.  
Would someone please tell his Aunt that he was no longer a bed-wetting 11-year old?

The expression on his face didn't escape Louisa's notice.

"Great,' she thought. '_Just_ what I needed, Joan.'

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Burt approaching, no doubt set on changing the Doc's mind with his colorful descriptions of the dance.

Suddenly Martin found himself being yanked by the sleeve to a more remote corner of the busy waterfront.

"Come on Martin...it'll be fun!" Louisa whispered.

"I don't really do..._fun_, Louisa," Martin said, his tone truly earnest for the first time since the conversation had begun.

She raised her chin defiantly.

"I refuse to believe that. I've seen you're playful side Martin, laughed at your subtle sense of humor."

A pained expression appeared on Martin's face. "I...I..._can't_," he stuttered out, cringing.

"Martin," Louisa said in a low tone, "It'd mean a lot to me, if you came."

The statement hit Martin like a thunderbolt.

Since when did his presence ever 'mean alot' to anyone?

Martin looked into Louisa's eyes, studying them for sincerity.

They were soft, pleading. Briefly his eyes flitted down to her simple green dress, so elegantly draped over her shoulders.

He felt his heart beat fast in his chest.

"Umm..._yes_," he finally said with an effort. There he had done it. He exhaled a little, feeling a liberating rush of adrenaline sweep through his body.

But to his bewilderment Louisa's grin faded. "Well, don't let me hogtie you into it, Martin. If you'll be miserable the whole time, it'd be better you didn't come," she said in that defiant tone he'd become all too familiar with.

From the corner of his eye, Martin could see Mark descending toward the beach.

The policeman had just confessed to him the other night his difficulties with women. And Martin had fancied he'd seen Mark cast a gaze or two in Louisa's direction.

Now was the time to act!

Briefly putting aside his inhibitions, he gently drew close to Louisa. She looked up at him, anticipation in her eyes.

"No, um, that would good...Wonderful, actually...I mean...I'd love to go to the dance...with you."

She flashed a quick smile.

"Are you sure, Martin?" A playful smile broke out on her face. "Wouldn't want to ruin your _flawless_ reputation in Port Wenn with the _scandalous_ revelation that you have two left feet." She looked down at his expensive dress shoes.

"I...um..._exaggerated_ my lack of dancing ability..."

She raised her eyebrows flirtatiously. "We'll have to see about that. I had quite the reputation in uni, you know. Might be hard to...um..."

She batted her eyelashes mischievously.

"...Keep pace," A slight, bemused smile appeared on Martin's lips, matched by Louisa's devilish grin.

Martin scoffed stiffly, but good-humoredly. "Don't be absurd. I earned an A in Ballroom Dancing back in school."

"You took dancing lessons?" Louisa asked incredulously.

"It was compulsory," Martin said, quickly.

"Oh! How lovely!"

"No, it was rather horrid actually..."

"Oh?" Louisa said disapprovingly.

"I mean...the school...excellent academic standards...public school* and all that...But I don't really think you'd approve of their...um...disciplinary methods."

Louisa nodded. A rather sizable piece of Martin's shadowy past had been revealed, and she was struggling to chew on it. One thing was clear: Martin didn't seem to have very fond memories of his childhood.

"Well...lucky for us they produced at least one good product," she finally said in a cheerful tone.

"Hmm," Martin said, a hint of a smile yet again appearing on his face.

"Hello Louisa," PC Mylow's voice called cheerily from behind them. "I was...um...wondering..."

He stopped mid sentence, suddenly noticing the two tickets in Louisa's hand. From there his eyes moved to Martin, and the connection was made.

"Oh...hi Doc...Didn't even notice you there," he said, his smile fading.

"Mark...you were going to ask me something?"

"Umm...no...sorry...mistake...Gotta go I'm afraid..."

Martin frowned. Just moments ago, foiling any attempts by Mark to woo Louisa had seemed like a matter of necessity (survival-of-the-fittest, that sort of thing).

Now it just seemed cruel.

He'd intentionally stolen Mark's date.

_To be continued..._

* * *

*_Unlike in the United States (and elsewhere), where a public school means a government-funded "state" school mandated to provide education to all students within it's orbit, in England (but not, apparently, Scotland) the term refers to a type of elite "private" school (Eton, for example is a public school). The expression arose from the fact that they were originally founded as charity schools for poorer students, with some degree of public governance, as opposed to for-profit schools that were common at the time._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Gift**

Louisa and Martin exchanged guilty looks. Martin wasn't the only one who knew about Mark's 'problem' with women. She discreetly glanced around. Surely there was someone she could rope into a night on the town with Mark. He was a nice guy, and he had such a gentle, kind demeanor, but he could be a bit gloomy and overly self-effacing.

And perhaps just a tad bit too eager.

Suddenly, she spotted Katie Bollard. The young ginger had been tragically widowed two years ago when one of the most violent gales in local memory had taken the life of her fisherman husband Tom, leaving her to raise a newborn by herself. Just the other day she was telling Louisa how she yearned for some good-hearted male companionship again. Mark would be a _perfect_ match.

Without explaining anything to Martin, Louisa grabbed a surprised Mark and rushed over to the girl, who was fiddling with her son's shirt, trying to remove a stain.

At the sight of Louisa she rose, picking up her child and balancing him on her left shoulder.

"Hello, Louisa," she smiled warmly. "Mark." She shyly lowered her head after a glance in the policeman's direction.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Behind her Louisa could hear Martin's shoes on the wet sand. As terrible as she felt thinking it, she knew she had to act quick before he obliviously waded in and ruined the moment.

"Umm...so...Katie...M-"

"The Portwenn Players Dance is tomorrow, and I wondered if you would be my partner," Mark suddenly interrupted her in a measured, calm tone.

Katie peeked up at him. Louisa thought she could detect a small sparkle of hope in her eyes. Martin stopped in his tracks.

'Good. Maybe he gets what's going on here,' Louisa thought.

"Well, gee, I don't Mark. I mean, I gotta think of my wee one here," Katie reasoned, glancing at the toddler who was growing rather fidgety in her arms. Mark looked a bit dumbfounded.

"Well...I'm sure we could find _someone_ in the village to look after Sean," Louisa interjected quickly.

Katie looked at Louisa with joy and admiration in her eyes. "Oh, I really couldn't do that to you, Lou. You go ahead and enjoy yourself."

Louisa eyes grew wide. Clearly Katie thought that _she_ had volunteered to watch the child.

"No!" Louisa nearly shouted, before she'd gotten her wits about her. "I mean-" she smiled sheepishly.

"Well, if you _insist!_" Katie said all smiles."It's been _so long_ since I've had a proper night out!" She looked at Mark, batting her eyelashes a little.

A small smile broke out on his face.

"No finer lady in Port Wenn to spend it with, begging your pardon Louisa," Mark said. He winked pathetically at Martin.

For the first time, Katie noticed the presence of the gloomy doctor quietly standing by, his face sullen, almost downcast.

She glanced at Louisa.

It was well known in Port Wenn that there was something going on between the unlikely pair. Word had quickly spread that the village's newest eligible bachelor had been seen several times with their beloved primary teacher*. Katie personally didn't see much in the man, except an abundance of medical skill, and she certainly wasn't alone in that stance.

But they _did_ say that Bert Large was already talking of placing bets. And Bert rarely placed a losing bet.

"What about..." Katie attempted to nod inconspicuously in Martin's direction.

Louisa looked back towards Martin, her face expressing a sincere apology. Martin was quite moved. It was clear she thought she'd let him down.

"Umm... actually, I was going to watch...the...ummm...child...with Miss Glasson," Martin managed to spit out awkwardly. "If that's okay with you..." he added quickly. Shock replaced remorse on Louisa's face. She _really_ owed him this time.

Katie in her joy rushed over and gave Martin a light hug-much to his discomfort-before turning to Louisa. As he recovered from the shock, Mark came up, smiling like an idiot. Before Martin had regained his wits, the policeman grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. "You're _the best_, Doc," he said, practically glowing. Martin nodded stiffly.

"Glad to see we've finally knocked some community spirit into you!"

"So it would seem," Martin muttered without conviction.

Mark turned toward Katie "We'd best go buy some tickets, Kate, or it'll all be for naught."

Martin and Louisa exchanged looks.

"Actually..." Louisa said, trying to keep the disappointment from her face, "We've taken the liberty of..." she swallowed hard, trying to repress the pain she suddenly felt welling up in her throat, "...of buying you some." She handed Katie their tickets.

The girl blushed. "You sly foxes, you," she said, wagging her finger at Martin and Louisa. She exchanged a sheepish look with Mark.

Martin made a face.

Gross sentimentality.

To his relief, Sean suddenly began to wriggle and whine.

"I'd best be off," Katie said, looking again at Martin and Louisa with deep gratitude.

Mark offered her his arm. "Mrs. Bollard, how would you like a police escort?" he said. She giggled and wrapped her arm around his.

Left behind, Martin raised his eyebrows at Louisa.

"Didn't expect _that_," he remarked bluntly.

Louisa bit her lip. Her eyes lowered.

"I'm really, _really_ sorry, Martin," she said quickly, sensing he would imminently visit his pent-up wrath on her. "I can still try to get you out of it...I know you probably..."

"There's really no need, Louisa," he interrupted softly.

Louisa looked at him, her eyes sparkling.

"Really?"

"It will be nice to...um...spend some time with you. Besides, they say you can tell alot about a person based on how they act when they're taking care of children."

Louisa's mouth was agape for a moment.

Martin was a bit shocked himself. Why had he said that? He and Louisa weren't really courting. Sure, there was clearly something there, but no one in Port Wenn would exactly consider them an article-yet. Besides he was actually quite worried that watching Sean would bring out the worst in him-in them. But then Martin realized something curious. Despite the fact that he avoided social encounters as often as possible, and despite the fact that he hadn't dated a woman in nearly 20 years, there was something about Louisa that made him want them to be serious, long-term, maybe even...

"Do you want kids Martin?" she suddenly blurted out.

"I mean...you know...someday."

She'd wanted to ask him since she first started having feelings about him. After all, _she_ wanted kids, and it would break her heart to end up with a man who didn't want them.

But, now that it was out in the open, the shocked look on Martin's face worried her.

"Not that...we..."

Oh gosh. This was really falling apart. Was she _trying_ to scare him away?

"Umm...uh...yes," he was surprised to hear himself say.

'Where did that come from?' he thought.

He'd always thought of infants-children in general, really-as stunted, selfish, germ-covered nuisances. Likely this was a view engendered by the way his own parents and teachers had always treated him as a boy, though he never actually made this connection.

But the thought of raising a child with _Louisa, _scandalous to his mind though it was_, _put things in a new light. He was certain she would make an excellent mother, far superior to his own. And the thought of cradling a miniature image of Louisa and himself, of forgetting the rotten past and creating something wonderful and new with this beautiful woman had a certain appeal to him.

A small grin appeared.

"Yes. Definitely," he said with sudden confidence. "That would be nice."

Louisa seemed to radiate.

Who would have known that the grumpy, socially-awkward bachelor-who was nearly 50-wanted kids? And maybe even wanted kids with-dare she think of it-her? It only went to show-there was more to Martin Ellingham than met the eye.  
And looking up at his pleasantly round face here on the waterfront, in the warm sun, a sea breeze blowing in over the harbor, she found what met the eye wasn't half bad either.

"Miss Glasson, I thought you had my Jimmy in class at 1?" a woman's voice suddenly called.

Louisa looked down at her watch. It was 5 after.

"Right you are Mrs. Gibbons!" she said, biting her lower lip.

The woman grinned. It was hard to be cross with Miss G, as her Jimmy fondly called her. It was no secret that the Cornish Council itself had attempted to nominate her twice for Best Teacher in the UK. And to see the dear soul _finally_ walking out with a man again, even if it was gruff, incorrigible Doc Martin, blessed her heart.

"I just hope my boy hasn't wrecked the place yet," she laughed.

Louisa glanced toward Martin.

"See ya later then?"

The doctor, momentarily besotted with her, could do nothing but nod.

Smiling broadly, Louisa gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ran off toward the school.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_*Caroline Bosman, the primary source of this gossip, neglected to mention that many of these encounters in fact consisted of fierce bickering between the pair._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Vandal**

Louisa let out a pleasant sigh as she climbed the hill.

Sure, cramming a bunch of primary students into a small room to hear Mrs. Potter talk for an hour about obscure bird species wasn't exactly the highlight of her week.

But Martin's words earlier, and the promise that she would see him later-despite the decidedly unromantic context- made the common cares and concerns of life not seem so bad.

"See, Miss, you're not even listening..."

Louisa's eyes went wide.

"I'm sorry Peter. I completely zoned out. What was it you were saying?"

Peter grinned mischievously.

"Thinking about the Doc are you Miss G?"

"Peter!" Louisa said, mouth agape.

"It's true isn't it?"

Louisa thought for a moment. He was right of course, and denying it would only make matters worse. Besides, she wasn't ashamed of her feelings for Martin.

"That's _none_ of your business young man," she said with a smirk.

"Now, what did you want to talk to me about?'

"It's the birds Miss. I learned about birds when I was eight."

Louisa laughed inwardly. Peter was what they called a Gifted child-he had extra-ordinary intellectual abilities for his age. When he said he'd learned about birds, what he really meant was that he knew more about the subject at his young age than Mrs. Potter had learned over a lifetime. Feeding habits, breeding habits, a verbal dichotomous key spelling out in detail the differences between the local species-take your pick, Peter could rattle it off. By rights Peter should have special instructional adaptations to match his abilities; in reality the money and the resources 'simply weren't there,' at least according to the current head teacher (aka head naysayer).

So here Peter was, stuck in retrograde.

Louisa bit her lip.

"Tell ya what, Peter. This is Mrs Potter's house. We're guests."

Peter scowled. He sensed a lecture was coming.

S_oooo_, I'll talk to Mrs. Potter and _if_-and only _if_-she agrees, you can help her with her demonstration."

Peter's eyes lit up with surprise.

"Really?"

"But if she says no, you still have to come inside and listen like all the other students." Louisa raised her eyebrows, "Fair?"

"Fair."

* * *

Martin almost felt like whistling as he checked his schedule for the afternoon. He needed to make sure he left time to get ready for his dat-...his baby-sitting gig, rather, with Louisa.

The reality that he would be responsible for the welfare of a real live child this evening was just sinking in, when he noticed something strange.

His afternoon was almost empty.

"Elaine, why don't I have any patients scheduled this afternoon?"

"Though' you'd need the time for travel Doc. You've got that park ranger who wants to see you..."

"Park ranger?"

"Yeah ya know, Doc: Stewart-I tol' you 'bout him."

Martin sighed exasperatedly.

"Elaine, I think one of these days I'd better give you an ear exam."

"Wha'?"

"I told you yesterday that if he's able-bodied..."

"But Dr. Sim used to..."

"_Oh please!_"

Elaine looked out the window to make sure no one was coming.

"He's a bit of a..." she pointed to her head and spun her finger around to indicate craziness.

"Oh?" Martin said a bit worried.

"Lives with giant squirrel named Antony."

Martin looked puzzled.

"I don't see what an unusually large pet as to do with..."

"This ain't no pet Doc. Says it's 2 meters high he does. Makes it up bowls of polenta, has 'conversations' with it-tha' sorta thing."

"Oh...I see."

"He's mostly harmless though," Elaine continued.

Martin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Although..."

The receptionist began laughing hysterically in the manner that particularly grated on Martin's nerves.

"_Yes_?"

"There _is_ that time he walked through the village swingin' his shotgun around and crying out that the Serbs were comin'."

She laughed again.

Martin's eyes went wide.

"Don't worry Doc! Tha' was years ago!"

"Mhm," Martin said, visibly disturbed.

He opened the filing cabinet near the receptionist desk.

"Oh I have his notes right here," Elaine said handing them to him.

Martin looked down at the brown, shriveled wad of paper. It had obviously experienced extensive water damage.

"Yeah sorry. I think it was the flood that time."

"Right," Martin said. To his surprise, instead of snapping at Elaine, he felt a strange calmness. The thought of seeing Louisa later rather somehow made life seem like it wasn't so bad, no matter what the circumstances.

"Perhaps I'd better consult PC Mylow on this one."

He marched into his office and retrieved his medical bag.

"But Doc...what about you're appointments?"

"You'd better cancel them. I'm afraid this may take all afternoon."

Elaine rolled her eyes.

"Whate'er you say Doc."

* * *

Mrs. Potter stared breathlessly at her broken bird feeders, strewn ruinously across the yard.

"Those squirrels are up to their nasty work again!" she declared bitterly.

"Bit big for a squirrel to knock over don't ya think," Peter said innocently.

"Okay...maybe it was a badger. Either way...my poor babies have nothing to eat.

Louisa put a reassuring arm around the older woman.

"Well, perhaps we could repair it for you Mrs. Potter. We got a whole host of children here, ready to chip in."

Mrs. Potter shook her head.

"No Miss, I'm afraid I've had enough hooligan's in my yard for one day. She stomped up the stairs and into the house.

Louisa sighed, massaging her forehead with her fingers.

"Miss G?"

"Yes Peter?"

"I don't think it was an animal."

"What?"

"It's too big to be knocked over by a badger or a squirrel. And deer wouldn't come into the yard 'cause it's fenced off see?"

Louisa shook her head skepticallly.

"I don' know Peter. Mrs. Potter knows what she's talking about."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Look here Miss. There's dents in the wood, like someone took a sledgehammer to it."

Louisa raised her eyebrows. So there was...

"But who would want to knock down a bird feeder?"

Suddenly it clicked.

"_Stewart_," they said in unison.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Cure**

A strong whiff of cologne hit Martin in the face as he entered the police station. Martin coughed loudly and staggered to the front desk.

Empty.

Typical Mark.

A bother when you didn't want one, and useless when you actually needed help.

"Mark!"

Martin heard movement from the back of the station.

"_Mark!?_"

He warily tiptoed behind the desk. More sounds. They were coming from upstairs. Martin was just about to turn the corner into the private living quarters when, out popped Mark in an orange dress shirt and some rather brief skivvies. In his hand was a set of dress pants.

"Oh...uh...hey Doc," the policeman said a bit sheepishly. "I was just about to say I'll be right out."

Martin stared blankly back at him.

"Um...yes...right. I'll just be ou-"

"Actually Doc, while you're here, "What do you think of the shirt?"

To Martin's extreme discomfort the policeman struck a pose.

"Well...uh..."

Suddenly the door opened. In walked Louisa.

Mark quickly covered his legs with the pants and darted back to the cover of the hallway, with nothing but his head visible

Louisa's jaw dropped.

The room was silent.

"I was just asking Martin for a little fashion advice."

Louisa raised her eyebrow. Martin? Fashion advice? Mark must really be desperate.

But Martin was still standing there silently, clearly too embarrassed to say anything. The very look on his face was clear testimony taht what Mark was saying was true."

"Right then...I'll just go and get myself fully dressed, and then I'll help you all out."

Louisa and Martin were left alone, staring at each other.

Suddenly Louisa laughed, a bit quietly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing Martin."

Martin scowled a little. In his experience when someone was laughing and there was no other readily apparent cause, they were probably having a laugh at him.

"No really, what?"

"Oh, if you must know, I was just thinking about the dress I was going to wear to the dance tonight."

"Oh."

Louisa ignored Martin's bland mutterance and continued.

"It was red sink thing with little roses all over it."

"I see."

"Won't be able to use it now, will I?" Louisa said with a disappointed laugh.

"I suppose not."

She sighed.

"Oh well."

"I think you look very well without it."

Louisa's eyes shot to Martin.

:What was that?"

Martin's cheeks turned bright red.

"Well...I mean...you look..."

"I'll be down in just a sec, I promise!" Mark's voice came from upstairs, knocking the couple back to normalcy.

"So...I gather you're not really hear to give Mark fashion advice?" Louisa began again, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Eh...no. It's about...a patient."

Louisa was taken aback.

"What do you need Mark for?"

Her eyebrows suddenly drew together.

"Is this person...dangerous?" she whispered.

Martin found himself relishing the moment. "Well...um...yes, he...I mean they...might be."

Louisa scratched her head. She knew just about everyone in the village-all the permanent residents anyway, and many in the outlying areas as well. She quickly made the connection.

"I know you're limited in what you can tell me, Martin, but does this patient by any chance have a problem with...say...seeing giant squirrels who aren't really there?"

Martin looked at her with surprise.

"Stewart," they both said simultaneously.

Mark finally came down to join them, the dress shirt traded for his police uniform.

"Run into Stewart in your travels, have you Doc? He's really a bright guy, it's just he gets a bit strange sometimes. Usually completely harmless."

"Well Mark," Louisa said, "That's just the thing."

She exhaled loudly.

"It appears, he may be up to his old tricks again."

Mark didn't look phased. "What's he been up to?"

"I've just been over to Mrs. Potters and I think he may have knocked down her birdfeeders."

"_Birdfeeders?_" Martin asked increduously.

Mark suppressed a laugh. "He thinks they cause 'The Greys' to multiply."

Martin looked puzzled.

"The grey squirrels," Louisa said. "He thinks the birdfeeders disproportionately favor the grey squirrels, who multiply and drive the red squirrels to extinction." She shrugged. "Stewart has a bit of a thing about squirrels."

"It's funny..." Mark said.

"I don't think it's very funny!" Martin said disgustedly. "The man is having_ delusions_!"

"No, I mean, Stewart's been fine recently, since Dr. Sim starting giving him his medicine."

"Medicine?" Martin asked.

Louisa and Mark turned toward him.

"You do know he takes meds Doc?" Mark said.

"Umm...I don't recall..."

Mark drew close "Tranquilizers," he whispered.

Martin raised his eyebrows.

The policeman nodded affirmatively. "Pretty powerful stuff, Doc."

"I think I'd better get Mental Health involved."

"Oh Martin!" Louisa said sadly. "Isn't there anything that can be done?"

Martin shook his head hesitantly, surprised by Louisa's tone.

"He may be dangerous, Louisa."

Louisa pursed her lips.

"Stewart isn't a danger to anyone, Martin. The poor man's just a bit paranoid because of his PTSD."

Martin's expression suddenly softened.

He nodded.

"I'll see what I can do." 

* * *

It was quiet as the Mark's land rover raced down the road, passed the barren moors and rolling farm fields.

Martin was doing his best to decipher the remains of Stewart's medical records. Strangely he had found no mention of tranquilizers.

It was several minutes before he realized that Louisa was watching him intently.

"Louisa, you said that Stewart has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

"Yes," she replied breaking off her gaze. "He was in Bosnia I think. Apparently, he got caught in a terrible gunfight with the Serbs, a real harrowing ordeal, then got shot up pretty bad by his buddy."

She sighed.

"Now he gets all...delusional at times. Thinks that at any moment an enemy might jump out at him. He's frightfully paranoid about poachers. And did I mention the squirrels?"

"You did," Martin said bluntly.

Louisa looked curiously at Martin. "Anyway, I would've thought Dr. Sim had all this written down.

Martin held up the ruined notes. "Destroyed in Bert's manmade flood, I'm afraid."

Louisa scowled. "Uh, you've really had it rough here haven't you Martin?"

The doctor shrugged. An awkward silence reigned for a moment.

"Martin?"

"Yes, Louisa?"

"When I mentioned Stewart's PTSD, you seemed to...I don't know..."

"Go soft?"

"Well not..."

Martin sighed.

"Louisa, I...I have this...blood..._thing_," he said quietly.

Martin's cheeks turned ashen pale.

Louisa looked horrified.

"What kind of blood thing?"

Suddenly her eyes grew wide.

"Do you have AIDS, Martin?" she said in the lowest voice she could wonder.

Perhaps that's why...

"No, no," Martin said. "Nothing like that."

He sighed again.

"If I smell or even sometimes see blood or cauterized flesh, I have a reaction."

"Reaction? What kind of reaction?"

"Nausea, sweaty palms, paleness..."

"So you have a fear of blood?" Louisa said, puzzled.

"But weren't you a surgeon back in London?"

Then it hit her.

"Is taht why you're a GP?"

Martin nodded. "Yes. I...I can't do surgery anymore, which is a shame, because it was the only thing I was ever good at."

"Oh Martin! I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have told you."

Louisa bit her lip for a second, pondering what Martin had just said.

"Is that why you can relate to Stewart?"

Martin nodded. "I suppose it is. Yes."

Finally, the land rover lurched to a stop.

"Here we are Doc."

Martin looked at Louisa.

"Right, I'll go in and see Stewart, and you two wait here."

"Nonsense, Martin, I'm going with you."

"Louisa, it might be dangerous."

She rolled her eyes.

"I've told you, Stewart's not dangerous...!"

She climbed out of the land rover to the sight of the park ranger walking up to front gate with a gun.

"_Most of the time_..." she muttered to herself.

Reluctantly, Martin clambered out after her. Mark remained in the car, feet up, reading a book, as if the matter's was of no importance. Right then. He would have to tackle this on his own.

The ranger pointed a finger at Martin, a congenial smile on his face.

"You must be Doctor Ellingham, the new GP."

"Right," Martin said, a bit skeptical of the man's tone. "You must be Stewart."

"Got that right Doc. I've been hoping you'd pay me a visit one of these days."

"Yes, so my receptionist has told me."

Stewart turned to Louisa, then the police car.

"I see you've brought the lovely Miss Glasson, and Mark, too, from the look of things. Is somethin' going on Doc.

"Umm...no..." Martin shook his head. "My car's in the garage, and...well...Louisa..."

"Ah, I catch you're drift there Doc!" He winked conspicuously at Martin.

So far Martin had seen little to indicate anything unusual about Stewart, other than a mild discomfort with idle chit-chat, an apparent sin he himself was often guilty of.

"Um...Doc...if you don't mind, there's a medical issue I'd like to discuss with you."

Martin swallowed hard.

"Perhaps over a cup of coffee."

"Right. Just lead the way."

* * *

"You carry tranquilizers Martin?" Louisa said, surprised at the doctor's apparent change of heart. "I thought those were a controlled substance."

"I didn't actually give him tranquilizers."

"You didn't?"

"No, the pills I gave him were multi-vitamins tablets." He though it best not to reveal the source of those tablets with Louisa present.

"Ah!" Louisa said, smiling mischievously. "The placebo effect. Where did you get that idea?"

"Doctor Sims notes...or what I could make of them. Stewart's delusions are too minor to justify using potentially addictive tranquilizers, and he's apparently responded well in the past to this kind of treatment."

"Is that what the placebo effect is doc? Faking it?"

"Sort of," Louisa said. "It means that people think the drug is helping them, when really the drug has no real power at all. Instead they either cure themselves, like with Stewart, or think they've been cured, when they really haven't."

"So that's what they..."

Mark shook his head in disbelief, then smiled mysteriously.

"Well anyway, this is my stop," Louisa said, pointing to her house.

Mark stopped the car and Louisa fumbled her way out.

Before she closed the door she glanced back at Martin, a small, almost shy smile on her face.

"I'll see you later, Martin," Louisa said a bit reluctantly.

"Yes," the doctor said quietly.

As the car pulled away, Martin found himself looking back, out the rear window, just to catch another glimpse of her, as she faded away into the doorframe of her house.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter ****5: The Sitters**

Martin stared at his closet. A neat row of suits, accompanied by a neat row of dress shirts hung in the otherwise bare closet. Martin grabbed an unused hanger, then hesitated, trying to decide whether or not it would be advantageous to wear his suit or to put it away.

On the one hand, children were, in his limited experience, rather dirty creatures, crawling with all sorts of infectious pathogens, and completely ignorant of proper sanitary practices-when they weren't regurgitating the contents of their stomachs and spewing it all over you. He'd only been GP in Port Wenn for a short time, but already he'd had a suit almost irreversibly damaged by partially-digested vomitus* from a young child. His forehead creased at the thought.

Perhaps he'd better go...what was it called..._casual_.

But then again...what would Louisa think? She _had_ been known to wear sweatpants around town on the occasional Saturday morning. But then again, Louisa looked nice in _anything_ she wore. That wasn't the case for him. The last time he'd tried dressing down, after accepting a dare in medical school, he was greeted with raucous laughter from his housemates. He could only imagine how deeply it would hurt if Louisa were to...

Perhaps he'd better play it safe and leave the suit and tie on.

* * *

Louisa stood in front of her mirror holding up yet another dress to herself. She sighed heavily. Here it was, still waffling over what to wear, mere minutes before she was supposed to meet Martin for their dat-

Suddenly Louisa blushed deep red.

Here she was freaking out over what to wear, when she was simply going over to her friend's house to babysit.

With Martin.

She sighed and plopped down on the bed.

* * *

Martin breathed in the sea air as he opened his front door. When he'd first come to the village, he'd found the smell of saltwater and dead fish that wafted in on the sea breezes from the harbor below rather repulsive.

But this evening, everything seemed different. All things told, today gone well, better than any day he could recall for a long time, and the prospect of spending an evening with Louisa, only raised his spirits. Now it was just a matter of caring for this child for a few hours- a task which seemed very doable in light of his other successes-and avoid any rows with Louisa. He thought he could manage that.

His thoughts were suddenly and sharply interrupted by a hoarse voice.

"Doc!"

"Surgery's closed, " he snapped without even looking at the person addressing.

"Doc, please, it's bleedin' real bad!"

Martin's eyes shot the speaker. A young man stood there holding his elbow. His hands were covered in blood. He was grimacing.

"I know you go' a date Doc...but...this is serious! You go'a help me Doc!"

With a heavy sigh, Martin walked over to the young man and examined his elbow. There was a cut long and rather deep but not serious-nothing requiring sutures. Still, the wound needed to be treated and bandaged.

"Were are your parents?"

"At the dance," the boy said casually.

Martin looked at his watch. He should be there already. Was it too much to ask for parents to take care of their pre-pubescent children?

"It really hurts, Doc!"

"Right. In you go," Martin said, pointing to the door.

He'd better make this quick.

Sean let out another eardrum-shattering shriek. Louisa had continuously plied the toddler with every toy she could find, to no success. She sighed heavily.

"Sean...I've..._I've just about had enough of your tantrums, young man_!" she said sternly, waving her finger a little, just like she did at school.

The child grew quiet, staring at Louisa with wide eyes, clearly in awe of her commanding tone.

But the respite was temporary and a moment later Sean was back to his shrieking. Louisa's will was failing when she heard a knock on the door.

The first thing Louisa noticed when she opened the door was that Martin was dressed to the hilt. For herself, Louisa had decided it only made sense to wear jeans (nice jeans-but jeans all the same) and a pretty but simple blouse. The mismatch only infuriated her more.

"You're late Martin!" she rasped, staring him down with fiery eyes.

"I...um...had a patient at the..."

"To heck with your patient, Martin!" Louisa said bitterly, aware of how selfish she sounded.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was for me, telling Katie over and over that you'd be along soon, and then, when you didn't appear, trying to defend you, insisting that I could take care of Sean _all by myself!"_

"_Louisa..._"

"No, Martin. There's no excuse!"

She raised her chin in defiance.

"Louisa...I'm sorry." Martin finally managed to spit out.

The look in his eyes communicated genuine remorse.

Louisa was about to say something conciliatory, when Sean let out another cry. Louisa, finally at her wit's end, thrust the child into Martin's arms.

"You take him this time. I've got to use the loo," she said sternly, walking briskly away.

"But Louisa.. I'm not equipped...

He was answered only by the slamming of the bathroom door.

* * *

The tears rolled down Louisa's face, smearing her make-up.

It wasn't supposed to be this way!

A nice quiet evening, chatting casually with Martin, a casting an occasional eye towards Sean to make sure he was alright. She didn't even care if Martin talked shop-she would be spending time with him, and that was all that mattered.

Instead..._disaster!_

This, she decided, was what family life with Martin would be like. He had shown his true colors. The workaholic who's mind was always on his work, who thought nothing of sacrificing time with his family to attend to the most minute incident. And she...she would be grubbing about with a screaming baby, unwashed, in boring, ugly clothes, feeling ashamed, embarrassed and rejected as her husband, the accomplished professional, marched in-late, yet again-in his fine clothes, offended at the suggestion that he have anything to do with his child.

Suddenly Louisa's mind raced back to what Martin had said earlier about the strict grammar schools he'd attended as a boy. Those were _boarding schools_, if she understood the system right.

Suddenly, in her mind's eye, she pictured a forlorn-looking young boy with a head full of light blond hair, sitting in a bleak gray classroom, being lectured by an old, ultra-thin school-teacher with harsh features and an even harsher voice. In an instant, her bitterness and pain, gave way to pity. Perhaps, it wasn't really Martin's fault, all his oddities, and awkwardness and difficulty getting close to people. And, after all, he had only been doing his job-the job that she had, in essence, hired him to do. Not to mention, it may have been an emergency. She realized with regret that she hadn't even bothered to ask.

Desperately, Louisa tried to pull herself back together. She owed Martin an apology. And perhaps they could still make something out of this wretched night.

After cleaning herself up, Louisa swallowed hard and opened the door. To her utter shock, the house was silent, other than a low, muffled sound coming from the direction of the living room.

Worried something had happened, Louisa quietly tip-toed down the hall. She heard a voice-Martin's voice, soft and monotonous, droning on and on.

That at least was a relief.

Curious, she snuck her way to the doorway of the living room and peered in.

There Martin was seated with Sean on his chest sleeping. His suit, she noticed, was off, and he was quietly reading what looked like a medical journal, his voice fading as he noticed that the child had fallen asleep.

Louisa could do nothing by smile.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_* To my surprise, "vomit" (both the verb and the noun) is in fact a medical term. "Vomitus" is just a fancier way of saying it._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 6****: The Tango**

"You're a natural," Louisa said softly.

Martin gently lifted his head to look at her. His eyes gleamed a little.

"The rhythmic pattern of my-"

He cut himself short. Louis didn't want to hear about the effects of rhythmic voice patterns on infants.

"Yes," Louisa said, nervously playing with her hair, her eyes looking down at the floor. "You're voice does...um..." Suddenly there was a knot in her throat. Her heartbeat raced.

Why did Martin always have this effect on her?

"...It has a rather..._pleasant_...quality to it, I suppose."

Martin's eyes grew wide.

"_Really_?"

Louisa felt a deep, almost irresistible affection for Martin stirring within her chest. Her nervousness and her feelings for this peculiar, difficult-to-understand, but ultimately lovely man clashed within

"Um...yes...Martin...I...um...rather enjoy...listening...to your...voice," she said quietly, her eyes heavy as she finally looked in his.

Suddenly he felt her cheeks grow warm. With her pale complexion, she was sure she was blushing horribly.

The next few moments a tense silence reigned.

Too afraid perhaps to reveal to each other how they felt or the hidden apprehensions that stood in their way, the couple glanced at each other sheepishly, brooding on what was going on in the other's mind.

Suddenly the sound of distant music glided in from outside, breaking in on the silence.

It was a bit of an unusual piece, soft and intricate, but with a lively back-and forth rhythm to it.

"Hmm..." Louisa said, looking toward the window. "A tango."*

Martin listened to the sound for a moment.

"I...I wouldn't know."

Suddenly Louisa's eyes shot to Martin, at once serious and playful.

"Dance with me."

"What?"  
"Come on, dance with me."

Martin looked ready to object, but Louis silenced him with a look.

And, after all, he had agreed to go to the dance with her this evening. This was a good way of making things up to her.

"Oh, very well."

A wide grin appeared on Louisa's face. She curtsied like her mother had shown her long, long ago when she'd still been around-now just a distant memory. Martin stood there stiffly.

"You're supposed to bow, Martin," she prodded.

What a silly farce. This wasn't a ball. This wasn't even a proper dance.

But, grudgingly, he made a small bow, just to satisfy her. For a moment they stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to move.

Finally Martin put forth his hands, an offering to dance. She quickly matched his hand with hers. She rested her other hand gently on his shoulder, and Martin slowly, hesitantly placed his hand on her side.

Martin's found his attention drawn to her hand, so white and soft and a good deal smaller than his own. He was aware of a slight tremble, but he wasn't sure if it was her or him.

As if by some silent mutual consent, they began to dance, slowly finding their feet, then picking up the pace.

"You were right about being a good dancer, Martin," she commented.

"Hmm," he replied softly. The tempo of their dance increased. They both smiled as they swayed back and forth across the living room of the Surgery. Martin hadn't realized how much he could enjoy dancing. Louisa was shocked at Martin's surprising agility and enthusiasm.

At first glance, it seemed there'd been a mismatch: the vivacious, friendly, soft-hearted school teacher, relatively short in stature, in jeans and a T-shirt and the gruff, reserved, awkward former surgeon, a virtual giant in comparison with his partner, decked out in a dress shirt and slacks. Yet, for a moment, the unlikely pair managed a perfect, if tenuous balance, a delicate, but fast-paced dance, all the more wonderful, because at any moment it might end.

And end it did. For, finally, in a burst of adrenaline, Martin twirled Louisa around dramatically.

The unexpected move was quite a thrill at first.

But suddenly she was conscious that the room seemed to be spinning at a much faster rate than she was and that her hand was no longer attached to Martin's.

She felt herself falling sideways.

The next thing she knew she was clumsily crashing into the sofa. She lay there for a second getting her bearings.

Martin quickly rushed over to her.

"Are you okay Louisa?"

"I'm fine, jus' a bit dizzy, you know," she said, trying unsuccessfully to regain her sense of balance.

Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

Martin relaxed and sat down on the sofa beside her, a small smile on his face.

The couple looked at each other, and suddenly the air felt heavy, as if a spell had been cast on them. They drew close, lips forming into a kiss. Martin could feel her arm moving around his shoulder. He could almost hear her heartbeat.

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door.

A loud wail from Sean succeeded it. They breathed out a sigh of frustration. There would be no kiss for now.

As they drew apart and prepared to take care of the interruptions, they saw a figure observing them from across the room.

_To be continued..._

* * *

_* The tune Martin and Louisa are hearing is in fact the "theme song" played at the beginning of each Doc Martin episode. One view I've heard is that the tune was designed to sound like tango music, with it's back in forth rhythm, perhaps representing the back-and-forth of Martin and Louisa's relationship, or more broadly, Martin's life in Port Wenn in general. _

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 7****: The Interruption**

"That 'as terrific! A sly one you are Doc, sneaking the dance moves in private," Elaine said, guffawing.

"Elaine...what are you doing here?"

" 'Babysittin' is what he says. But now we know what it really is innit Doc?"

Martin stiffened.  
There has been nothing impro-"

The doorbell rang again.

"I'll...just go get that," Louisa said, biting her lip.

"Do you think you could go look after Sean?"

Louisa was surprised to see a look of pain-of regret really-on Martin's face.

Her heart fell. It was the same face she'd seen at the Crab the other night when Mark had unwittingly intruded on their date.

For a moment, he hesitated, still watching Louisa's as she turned toward the door.

"Doc?" Elaine's voice intruded on his thoughts.

Without a word, he rose and began walking towards the stairs.

"_Doc!?_"

But Martin was still too lost in his gloom to hear her.

Elaine returned to the kitchen where, Louisa was greeting a beaming Katie and Mark.

"How did it go you two?"

"It was _lovely_, Lou," she shot googly eyes at Mark who reciprocated in kind. "I haven't had such a good time in...gosh...I don't know how long."

"Fabulous dancer she is...," Mark said with enthusiasm,.

Katie rolled her eyes. "Nonsense, it was Mark that stole the show. A real party animal!"

The policeman shrugged modestly.

"Didn't know I had it in me!"

Louisa raised her eyebrows a little. Neither did she.

"Well I'm glad you both had such a great time."

Suddenly, Martin appeared behind Louisa carrying Sean.

"So enough about us. How was Sean? I hope he hasn't made too much of a nuisance of himself?"

"Oh, Sean was fine. Cried a little at first, but Martin soon sorted 'im out," she grinned and looked admiringly at her fellow babysitter. "Just read a few words from his medical journal and Sean was out, simple as that."

Martin looked embarassed.

"He's...um...just woke up, I'm afraid." Awkwardly he handed the now drowsy-looking child to his beaming mother.

"Thank you both so much,"

"Don't ment-"

"-r pleasure."

Mark looked down at his watch. "Well, I gotta get up early tomorrow for my beat, so I'll say goodnight."

They all wished him goodnight, and he began down the street.

"See you Tuesday?"

"I'll be there!" Katie yelled after him with a smile.

She looked at the other two.

"Dinner at his place," she said with a smile. "Sean's invited too."

Louisa raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly.

Behind them Martin cleared his throat "I'd...uh...better be off myself," he said, nodding farewell.

"I'll...um...join you, if you don't mind, Martin?"

Martin's eyes widened. "Yes...of course...that'd be nice."

They bid farewell and began walking down the street.

After them came the pitter-pat of flip-flops on pavement.

"Doc!"

They both cringed. Once again, it was the unmistakable voice of Elaine.

"Elaine, what on earth is the problem?"

"It's this prescription Doc. I took it home wi' me by accident."

"So why didn't you just drop off tomorrow?"

"I don' wan to be carryin' this all over the place!"

She crossly handed a wadded up piece of paper to Martin.

"You should just be glad I'm doin' work after my usual hours

"I'm not entirely clear you have an adequate grasp of what the word 'work' means Elaine."

"It means I help you a bit and you pay me, yeah?"

"If only that were the case..." He briefly exchanged exasperated glances with Louisa, then continued down the street.

With a huff the receptionist was off.

louia grinned under her breath

"_Tosser,_" she said bemusedly under hear breath.

Martin looked puzzled.

"Your receptionist."

"Hmm...yes...Elaine."

"It's a shame you can't sack her. That's half a dozen girls around here that could do a better job. Her cousin Pauline worked for a vet. She's "

Martin's eyebrows rose in shock., so she has some basic medical knowledge. And I heard young Morwenna Newcross is looking for a job..."

"But I thought you said..."

"What I said...what I was _trying_ to say at the time was that in a small town like Port Wenn, you have to keep an ear open to what people want."

"I'm not particularly good at that."

"No," Louisa admitted, smiling. "I s'pose that comes with time."

Martin wasn't so sure. He'd struggled with understanding other people's desires and feelings all his life. But he felt no desire to argue with Louisa. They had been doing so well.

"So you don't really like Elaine?"

"Gosh no! Back when Dr. Sims was around that place was a mess. Wrong prescriptions all over the place. Cheek every time you tried to place an appointment. And I needn't tell you about the cleanliness standards. Dr. Sims was too old to keep the place up himself, and he was constantly at odds with Elaine trying to get her to shift her...well...you know." She laughed grimly .  
"I think it probably played a role in the poor man's death."

"Hmm...yes. Cardiac arrest wasn't it? Quite possibly aggravated by stress."

She nodded. "Still, Dr. Sims was the only Doc we had. Not very knowledgeable or particularly professional, but he was a kindly man. Never spotted my glaucoma though. Told me the blurriness was just from stress. He said I should quit work, settle down. Believed the woman's place was in the home, that sorta thing."

"Hmm," was all Martin would say in response.

"But now that _you're_ here..."

He looked at her, surprised.

"Yes?"

"Things are..." she looked toward him, a hesitant smile on her face."Much better,"

He nodded. "Thank you. I do my best."

"Yes. I know you do, Martin."

They walked silently together for a few brief moments as he weighed the import of those words.

Louisa was, quite literally, the woman of his dreams. He'd had only the highest opinion of her from his first glance of her as they entered the plane. Not even her attempt to derail his approval as GP had dissuaded him-strangely it had increased his admiration for her, as the only person in the room who seemed to see right through him, and had the guts to say something about it to boot.

On the other hand, he had been sure Louisa generally disapproved of him. Surely any feeling she had for him was due to some pheromonal imbalance or an overestimation of his skill as a medical professional.

But being around her tonight, he could tell the feelings ran deeper than that. It puzzled and quite frankly scared him a little, to have someone feel such affection for him. It was like holding an extremely delicate and expensive vase in your hands, fearing at the slightest movement, you might drop it, sending it crashing into the floor and shattering into a million pieces.

And yet, it was also a pleasant feeling, knowing that Louisa cared, that she might even reciprocate his own feelings.

"Here's my flat," she said, pointing to a short doorway.

They walked a few more steps, unwilling for the night to be over.

Down the street the sounds of the dance could still be heard.

Louisa thought about prodding him to sneak into the dance with her, or at least go for a walk along the cliffs.

But deep inside of her, she heard a voice telling her not to push him. To take things slow.

For his part, Martin was thinking similar thoughts. He'd enjoyed their time together, and would've given anything to extend that time. But he felt drowsy, and he knew he was already tempting fate-it was a marvel he hadn't managed to say something offensive yet.

'You've made alot of progress already. Best not to go too far and spoil things,' he thought.

"I'll let you go," they both said, reluctantly at the same time.

Louisa gave him a light peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight Martin."

He nodded "Goodnight."

"Martin?"

"Louisa?"

"Thanks for the dance."

"Yes...um...it was...um...my...pleasure."

Louisa nearly exploded with happiness.

"Goodnight Martin," she said softly.

"Goodnight."

As she turned toward her door, Louisa fancied she saw a small smile curl on Martin's lips.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Buffalo Pictures owns the "Doc Martin" TV series, and all credit goes to them and all the people who make the show what it is. _**

**_I _don't_ own any rights to "Doc Martin," and I'm not making any money off it._**

**Let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews, and take them into account as I write.**

* * *

**Chapter 8****: The Dance**

Louisa woke up to terrible, throbbing pain. She wanted nothing but to let out a bloodcurdling scream, but her motherly instinct quickly kicking in gear, she refrained, not wanting to wake James.

Instead, she bit her lip and analyzed the situation.

Of course.

She had rolled part way onto her broken arm.

Carefully, she attempted to extricate herself, but, battered and weary as she was, this was no easy task.

"Louisa! Good heavens! Let me help you with that!"

Martin rushed into the room, and gingerly helped roll her over.

"Ah, Martin, you're a life-saver!"

The reality of that statement suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks.

The events of the past day, of the past week, of the years since that fateful meeting on the plane, came flooding back to her.

She frowned.

So much for her dream.

It had been such a good dream too, even if it was unrealistic.

Martin, accept an invitation to a dance, a raucous dance, with loud music, and unusually obnoxious townspeople? What had she been thinking?

In real life, Martin had, of course, rejected her overture, as usual; been hurt by Louisa's choice of Mark as her date; gotten Stewart all wrong; and generally muffed the whole thing up.

She felt a grim smile curling to her lips. It was the epitome of their relationship: misunderstandings, wreckless actions taken in frustration, all mixed in with a fair dose of love and affection, often where it was least expected.

"Do you still feel pain in your arm?" her husband's voice gently broke through her thoughts.

"Um...a lil' bit, yes."

"Hmm," Martin said. 'I'll go fetch some painkillers from the examination room."

"I'll...I'll come with you, if that's alright..."

rtain looked surprised.

"Umm...sure..."

He helped her out of bed, then steadied her as she rose to her feet.

"Careful going down the steps," he admonished quietly as he turned to descend.

"_Yes, doctor_." Louisa grumbled under her breath.

Once downstairs, Martin fetched the painkillers and administered them.

"That should take about a half hour to start working."

Louisa nodded silently.

Looking around, she noticed a cup of half-drunk coffee sitting on the table.

"Bit late for that, innit?"

"Um...well...I was looking up some stuff..." Martin said, evasively.

"What kind of stuff?"

"Oh...just...you know...stuff..."

He bit his lip, cursing his guardedness.

There was a look of comprehension on Louisa's face. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Oh Martin...what are we going to do?"

Martin looked pained. He wanted to tell his diagnosis of the problem, set out a strategy that would cure all their troubles. He wanted to rattle off the list of marriage counselors and therapists he had spent much of the evening looking up.

But the pain on Louisa's face, her shattered weary condition just sucked the life out of him, drive a knife into his heart.

Louisa looked on hoping, silently pleading for some kind of answer.

Finally Martin broke his terrible silence.

"Oh Louisa," he said embracing her gently.

"I couldn't bear to see you go. Not again."

Louisa's eyes grew moist. This...this was so unlike the Martin she had seen over the past couple of weeks...or months... In fact, she had only rarely gotten glimpses of this emotional side of Martin, beautiful glimpses, but rare.

She stroked the back of his head as she pressed her body against his.

Suddenly, she felt Martin pull away from the embrace.  
Bracing for some ill-timed admonition about her injured arm, she bit down on her lip.

"Louisa..."

She warned him with a sharp glance.

Martin swallowed hard.

"Louisa," he began again. To his surprise his voice sounded confident and firm this time around.

"I will do whatever it takes..._whatever..._to make this work."

Tears flowed down Louisa's face. She bit harder on her lip.

He swallowed hard again. "But I can't do it alone. I need your help, Louisa."

Louisa looked up into his eyes, wanting to believe him, believe in them, but she was, quite honestly, afraid. Afraid, that, yet again, her, or him, would slip up and fall, and that the injury would be worse, perhaps...fatal. The thought of a heart wrenching end, like her dad and mum had had, like Martin and her had come close to so many times, was like a debilitating punch in her stomach.

"I...I had this dream Martin, about the Port Wenn Players Dance, years ago, Do you remember?"

Martin's eyebrows drew together.

"Yes. I...I was a bit of a turd."  
A brief smile poked through Louisa's tears. "You've had finer moments."

"Yes."

"Well, anyway, I dreamed that you accepted, but then we had to babysit..."

Martin looked puzzled.

"Well...anyway...my point is...we danced. It was sort of like a dream come true...only...it was a dream...so obviously...I mean it didn't..."

"I...I had no idea it meant so much to you..."

"Well, it wasn't so much the dance, as the..."

"Louisa, we can dance any time you want."

"...it's this ideal I have, sort o' silly you kn-...wait..._what_?"

"We can dance anyti-"

"Really?"

"If that's what you want..."

Silence reigned for a moment.

"Would...you dance with me now?"

"Well...there's your...um...arm...to consider..."

Louisa's shoulders sunk.

"Oh...right. I'd nearly forgotten."

Martin hovered on the edge of doubt for a second.

"Well...maybe...if we're extra careful..."

he conceded.

Louisa's eyes lit up.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Why not?" Martin said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

Louisa studied Martin's face, the deep affection and feeling hidden under all those lines of care. He desperately wanted to be a better father and husband, and he would try his best, of that she was certain. Whether his best was enough...that was the question.

Even as she thought these things, her fearful, sad eyes remained riveted to his soft, pained ones. There was just...something...about his eyes, that gaze, this...man. It was in moments like this that she recalled so vividly why, after all they'd been through, she stuck by him, pledged to spend the rest of her life with him.

Slowly, gradually, any lingering feelings of hostility simply melted away.

What had she been thinking?  
She couldn't just demand that Martin change, that he conform to her every imagined preference, with no change in her own action or attitudes.

Martin was only human, and while he needed to change, he was not alone. She too must compromise, must find a way to make this work. Martin had said he needed her help, and she would give it, freely, for this man she loved, so very dearly.

"Oh Martin!" she said clinging even harder to him.

"Louisa," Martin said in a soothing voice.

In the sweet silence that followed, Louisa could swear she heard the faint sounds of music playing in the background.

"Do you hear that Martin?"

He listened for a moment, then nodded his head.

"It's coming from the direction of the village hall I think."

"Ah, the Portwenn Players Dance. How ironic..."

"Yes..." Martin said, aloofly.

Suddenly he pulled her gently toward the front hall.

"Martin...what are you doin'?"

"I've an idea."

Louisa raised her eyebrows.

It wasn't like Martin to have 'ideas,' not romantic ideas at any rate.

He opened the front door and they both exited the house onto the front step. They took in the beautiful, sapphire-colored, star-studded night sky.

From here they could hear the music from the dance quite clearly.

The couple looked toward each other, taking each other in in silence.

Suddenly Louisa fidgeted.

"I really should see to James..." she said.

Martin closed the front door.

"He'll be fine for a few minutes."

Louisa nodded.

"S'pose so," she said, uncomfortably.

Slowly she raised her eyes to Martin's.

"Louisa," he asked softly, "may I have this dance?"

She nodded, her eyes gleaming

With great care, he drew her close, to him. A soft slow tune began down below.

"You're really quite experienced at this, aren't you Martin?"

"Well, I was one of the top students in my dance class," he said, bluntly.

"Hmm..." she said, with a mischievous smile. "I can tell."

They kissed, long and passionately.

And with that they began to dance, there on the doorstep, with the stars and the sea as an audience, as the singer's words wafted across the town.

_"I've watched the sunrise in your eyes  
__And I've seen the tears fall like the rain.  
__You've seen me fight so brave and strong  
__You've held my hand when I'm afraid.  
_

_We've watched the seasons come and go  
We'll see them come and go again  
But in winter's chill, or summer's breeze  
One thing will not be changin'_

_We will dance,  
__When the sun is shining in the pouring rain  
We'll spin and we'll sway  
And we will dance  
When the gentle breeze becomes a hurricane  
The music will play,  
And I'll hold you close  
And I won't let you go-  
Even when our steps grow weak and slow-  
Still I'll take your hand,  
And hold you close to me,  
And we,  
__Will dance."*_

**THE END**

* * *

_*IMPORTANT NOTE: These lines are in fact from the song "We Will Dance," sung and written by Stephen Curtis Chapman, and thus the property of Sparrow Records. It is a beautiful song, addressed, like many of his songs, to his wife, and made all the poignant by the tragic death of their young daughter in a car accident a few years ago. I highly recommend it.  
_

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and for all of you who have reviewed this, and other stories over the past few months! Sorry the last chapter took so long! Let me know what you think!**


End file.
